


Security Measures

by Kangofu_CB



Series: Security Issues [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Begging, Bottoming from the Top, Cock Rings, Edging, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Praise Kink Clint, Rewards, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Subspace, gentle dom Bucky, use of the traffic light system, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 16:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17901959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/pseuds/Kangofu_CB
Summary: “What if you can’t remember your safe word?”His nose crinkled up.  Clint very seriously doubted he would forget that Memphis was the very last place on earth he ever wanted to go again, but he dutifully answered the question, because he’d learned over the last few months that James would go no further if he didn’t.  “Then I say red.”He got a scrape of teeth against his shoulder and a tweaked nipple for his trouble.  Clint arched into the touch.“And if I need to slow down?”“Yellow,” Clint breathed, going lax under the firm but considerate touch of James’ hands.James hummed in approval, and stripped Clint’s shirt over his head.“And green means go,” Clint added, before he could be asked, and James pinched his side, making him flinch and yelp.“I thought you wanted a reward,” James growled, pulling Clint back against him.  “Not a punishment.”Clint sucked in a breath.  “I do,” he was quick to respond, but his voice had gone thready.  He cleared his throat.  “I want a reward.”





	Security Measures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatsmysecret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsmysecret/gifts).



> More of adventures of Gentle Dom Bucky and Praise Kink Clint! 
> 
> I won't lie, this is a shameless, shameless bit of filth, inspired by and written as something *thisclose* to bribery for ThatsMySecret, who is frankly wonderful. Again, if you haven't listened to her podfics, do yourself a huuuuuuuge favor, and GO LISTEN TO THEM. Even if you don't think you like podfic, trust me, you do.
> 
> My dear, lovely friend - this isn't my _Pieta_ , but it might be my _David_?

Clint was _thrumming_ with anticipation.

 

It’d been a successful expedition with Natasha, which always gave him a bit of a thrill, and now he was on his way home - well, on his way to James’ apartment, which wasn’t quite _home_ yet, but it was _something_ he wasn’t examining too closely - where he’d been expressly promised a reward.

 

A reward he was more than eager to collect on.

 

He’d bid Nat a hasty goodbye and made none of his usual post-mission celebratory suggestions, making her smirk at him knowingly.

 

The only celebration he wanted to have was waiting for him back at James’ place.

 

Instead of buzzing himself up, Clint made it an extra game to get into the building undetected.  James was as much a security expert as Clint was, and he’d picked a building with a buzzer system and a private elevator and a doorman for those reasons, but none of that was able, or even intended, to keep someone of Clint’s caliber out of his apartment.

 

He padded through the foyer on silent feet, avoiding the creaky board by the closet, and headed for James’ home office, where he could see a sliver of light shining under the door.  

 

The door hinges didn’t creak at all when Clint twisted the knob and pushed it open slowly, waiting to see if James noticed.

 

He did.  James was watching the door as it swung open, a little smile that was some parts amusement and some parts pride shining up at Clint from where he was sitting in his office chair, the very picture of casual nonchalance.  

 

Clint leaned against the doorframe and drank him in.  

 

James was dressed casually, in the same jeans he’d been wearing when Clint had eaten dinner with him, hours earlier, and a soft, grey t-shirt that made his eyes stand out even more.

 

Only James could make cotton and denim look so sexy.  

 

“Have a good night, sweetheart?” James asked, already reading the tension in Clint’s body correctly.

 

“Yeah,” Clint agreed, taking a few steps forward and dropping the small, cloth drawstring bag in his pocket on the desk.  It made a muffled thumping sound, indicating it was heavier than its size implied. “So the deal was, I bring back something valuable that wouldn’t be missed, and I get a reward, right?”

 

James smirked at him, but made no move to take the bag.  “That was basically the agreement, yes,” he allowed, slumping further into his chair and letting his thighs spread in a loose, relaxed sprawl.  He cocked his head. “What kind of reward were you hoping for?”

 

Clint swallowed dryly.  He hadn’t actually thought that far ahead, beyond fleeting fantasies of James’ hands on his body and spectacular orgasms.   It had been a tremendous distraction from his work tonight, which, he was sure, was exactly as James had intended.

 

“I- I um…”  he trailed off.

 

The smirk on James’ face widened into a predator’s smile.  “Didn’t think about that, baby? Want me to pick your reward?”  He lifted the bag off the table, tossed it casually from hand to hand.  

 

Words continued to fail him, so Clint nodded, his head feeling a little like a marionette with its strings cut.  

 

“Well,” James began, untying the bag, “I guess it depends on what sort of present you brought me.”

 

A jolt of alarm ran up Clint’s spine.  When he’d taken the thing, he’d been thinking only of meeting the exact, technical parameters of the challenge James had issued, and a little bit about the fact that it would be an enormously funny joke.

 

Except it didn’t feel humorous, at this exact moment, as James was turning the bag over to dump the contents into his palm.

 

When he’d said valuable, James hadn’t specified _whom_ it had to be valuable to.

 

So, Clint had taken the egg-sized geode from James’ own desk at the museum, the one that James had personally got in Bahrain on a mission, years and years ago.  The one that Clint had commented on at their meeting just last week.

 

James made a quiet, thoughtful sound as he turned the geode over and over in his palm.

 

Clint opened his mouth to apologize, and snapped it shut again.  He wasn’t even sure he _should_ apologize, but even if it was warranted, he wasn’t entirely positive what exactly he’d be apologizing for.

 

And he’d learned to be very, very specific in his apologies.

 

James sat the geode down on the desk, very quietly and precisely, and Clint winced.  He stood up, making his way towards the doorway where Clint had retreated to lean against the frame again while James examined the contents of the bag. James reached out and snagged Clint by his belt loops to reel him into his chest.  His face still had that same still, thoughtful expression.

 

“Are you mad?” The words tumbled out of Clint’s mouth without his permission.

 

James tilted his head.  “Why would I be mad?”

 

Clint shrugged.

 

“You did exactly what I asked, didn’t you sweetheart?”  

 

Clint nodded as all the moisture in his mouth dried up.  

 

“And now you get a reward,” James continued, and Clint’s breath hitched in his chest in a completely audible hiccup.  

 

Reaching up, James tangled his fingers in Clint’s hair and dragged him down for a rough kiss that was little more than teeth and tongues.  Clint couldn’t help the tiny, desperate sound it dredged out of his chest, and he felt James smile against his mouth.

 

“Bedroom,” James ordered, letting Clint go so suddenly that he stumbled.  

 

He wasted no time in obeying though, turning on his heel and heading for the bedroom with what could be generously termed a brisk pace.  He wasn’t outright running, but it was a close thing.

 

The huff of laughter he heard behind him was almost enough to make him slow down.

 

Almost.

 

He was eager, so what?

 

Who wouldn’t be?

 

Once he got to the bedroom though he was at a loss.  

 

Should he take his clothes off? Wait for James?  Sit on the bed? The ottoman? The chair in the corner?

 

Clint stalled in indecision, long enough for James to come up behind him and press gentle lips behind his ear.

 

“What’s your safe word?” James asked, and goosebumps rose on Clint’s neck in response to the brush of air against his damp skin.

 

“Memphis,” Clint said, the word coming out on shaky exhalation.

 

“Good,” James responded, sliding his hands underneath the t-shirt Clint was wearing, scraping against bare skin.  

 

Clint shuddered, though whether it was a response to James’ words or his touch was debatable.

 

“What if you can’t remember your safe word?”

 

His nose crinkled up.  Clint very seriously doubted he would forget that Memphis was the very last place on earth he ever wanted to go again, but he dutifully answered the question, because he’d learned over the last few months that James would go no further if he didn’t.  “Then I say red.”

 

He got a scrape of teeth against his shoulder and a tweaked nipple for his trouble.  Clint arched into the touch.

 

“And if I need to slow down?”

 

“Yellow,” Clint breathed, going lax under the firm but considerate touch of James’ hands.

 

James hummed in approval, and stripped Clint’s shirt over his head.  

 

“And green means go,” Clint added, before he could be asked, and James pinched his side, making him flinch and yelp.  

 

“I thought you wanted a _reward_ ,” James growled, pulling Clint back against him.  “Not a punishment.”

 

Clint sucked in a breath.  “I do,” he was quick to respond, but his voice had gone thready.  He cleared his throat. “I want a reward.”

 

“Then act like it,” James said, twisting Clint’s nipple hard enough to hurt.

 

He was unable to help the way his body responded, simultaneously twisting into and away from the sensation, his cock perking up in his pants.  Clint groaned.

 

“Pants off,” James said, taking a step back and leaving Clint’s back feeling chilly and naked. He made his way to the bed while Clint did as he was told. James retrieved something in the nightstand drawer that slid under the mattress and around, and then he pulled out a pair of soft, leather cuffs.

 

Clint’s breathing hitched again.  

 

James smirked again.  “I was going to ask how you felt about being tied up, but your reaction speaks for itself.  Color?”

 

“Green,” Clint breathed, and took a half step forward.  He was totally naked, now, his tac pants and underwear and socks piled on top of his discarded boots in the center of the floor.

 

James gave them a raised eyebrow, and Clint hurried to pick them up, setting the boots, socks stuffed inside, beside the door and folding the pants into a semi-respectable square that he left on the dresser along with with his briefs.  He wasn’t sure where his shirt had ended up, but since James had taken it off of him, Clint didn’t much care.

 

“C’mere,” James said, giving Clint a very thorough once-over that made him flush.  

 

He always looked at Clint as though he were some kind of dessert, something to be hovered over and savored, and he treated Clint like he was too, and Clint hadn’t quite got used to the attention.  He certainly didn’t hate it, for all that it made him feel vaguely awkward at the same time that it turned him on.

 

Clint didn’t think he was anything special - to look at or otherwise - but James acted as though he were.

 

He let James tug him up onto the mattress, until he was stretched out on his back with his arms over his head, and James was pressing down on him, kissing him like he didn’t need oxygen to breathe, the rough scrape of denim and the softness of the cotton t-shirt sliding deliciously over Clint’s bare skin.  He was already more than half-hard, just from a few bare touches and a handful of kisses and sheer anticipation.

 

James hands slid up his bare sides and along his arms until they were wrapped around his wrists, pressing them into the mattress, even as he slid his thigh between Clint’s, offering some much-needed but not quite enough pressure against his cock.  Lifting his head, James looked down at the picture Clint presented, naked and desperate, with his hands held down, and smiled. His cheeks were flushed and his pupils were dilated and Clint made a wanton, needy sound in the back of his throat.

 

Producing the cuffs, James wrapped first one and then the other around Clint’s wrists, careful and gentle, making sure they were wrapped firmly but not too tight.  Clint tilted his head to watch as James hooked them to a swivel clip on the strap across the mattress. He inhaled, shaky, and felt his whole body flush with arousal.

 

“Color?” James asked quietly, testing the give of the strap, which was minimal.

 

“Green,” Clint assured him, relaxing back into the restraint, not even trying them himself, content with James’ assessment that he couldn’t work himself free.

 

Well, if he were really determined, Clint was certain he _could_ work himself free, but he didn’t want to, so it was a moot point.

 

James leaned up on his knees and stripped his shirt over his head, Clint watching avidly as his entire muscular torso was revealed.

 

“See somethin’ you like sweetheart?” James asked as he tossed the shirt aside.

 

Clint snorted. “Like you don’t know what you look like.”

 

“God, the mouth on you,” James shook his head.  “Good thing you’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

 

That’s when Clint made his mistake.

 

He rolled his eyes.

 

James narrowed his eyes at Clint, and Clint bit his lip, already knowing he’d fucked up.  Clint opened his mouth to apologize, but James cut him off.

 

“What, you callin’ me a liar?” James said, severely, reaching up to cup Clint’s cheek, oh-so-gently, a complete contrast to his tone.  “You’re real fuckin’ pretty sweetheart, stretched out underneath me like this.”

 

Clint didn’t roll his eyes that time, but it was a close thing.

 

James’ thumb dragged across his lower lip and Clint opened his mouth, just a little, soft and inviting and hoping James would forget his mistake.  The thumb slid between his lips and Clint sucked gently, scraping his teeth across the sensitive pad.

 

James hummed.  “Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

 

And Clint-

 

Clint wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that, especially because he didn’t know what the hell it even _meant_.

 

“The mouth on you,” James said again, but the tone this time was different, less amused exasperation, and more hot appreciation.  “Wrapped around my thumb like you wrap it around my dick. I fuckin’ love it. So soft and pretty, stretched out around me.”

 

The thumb in his mouth kept Clint from making any response, and James pressed the advantage, pushing his thumb father in before pulling it out slowly, like he would his cock.  Clint made a muffled sound of want.

 

James thumb came free with a wet pop, and he dragged it down Clint’s jaw, applying just enough pressure to make Clint tilt his head back, baring his throat.  James brought his other hand into play, scraping his nails across Clint’s collarbones, dragging hard enough that Clint knew it would leave fleeting red marks on his skin.  

 

“And you mark up so pretty for me,” James continued.  “Let me bruise you up with my mouth, my hands, looks so fuckin’ good.  Can’t keep my hands offa you.”

 

The hands trailed further, and now they were working up Clint’s arms and shoulders, squeezing his biceps before tangling their fingers together.  “And these goddamn _arms_ ,” James said, reverently.  “You gotta know what your fuckin’ arms do to me, honey.”

 

Clint flexed underneath the pressure, flushed in response to the praise, some small part of him embarrassed but the rest of his brain lighting up like a slot machine of pleasure, _ping ping ping we have a winner_.

 

It was almost, almost humiliating how easy Clint was for it, when James told him how _good_ he was being, how pretty he was.

 

The comments were usually dropped casually, in the middle of sex, into the quiet space of Clint’s brain while he was enjoying the pleasure of other things, where he could pretend it wasn’t the words spiralling his arousal higher and higher.

 

This, though.  This was something else.

 

James’ whole focus was now on telling Clint how good he looked, how perfect he was and Clint wasn’t sure he could take it, while at the same time his cock was already _throbbing._

 

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, as James’ hands tightened around his already-bound wrists.

 

“Mmmm,” James said.  “And you take it so well,” he added, dragging his hands back down Clint’s arm, scraping his nails and undoubtedly leaving more marks.  “Always so good for me sweetheart, whatever I want from you, you just give it to me. Perfect.”

 

Clint’s whole body seemed to light up, a zing going straight up his spine, and he let out a choked, shuddering breath.  

 

James leaned back down, dragging his mouth and his stubbled cheek against Clint’s face to the side of his neck, pressing nibbling kisses to his jawline and the sensitive place under his ear.  “Gonna tell you how perfect you are all night doll, gonna _show_ you.  Get my hands and mouth _all_ over you.”

 

Clint shuddered so hard it was almost a convulsion.

 

Leaning back up, James unsnapped the button fly of his jeans but didn’t take them off, just left himself space for the erection he was already sporting, straining against his briefs, and looked Clint over like a conqueror surveying his domain.

 

“Yeah,” James said, looking satisfied.  “Gonna make you feel real good baby.”

 

Clint had to close his eyes at the frank appreciation in James’ gaze, at the way his eyes roamed over Clint’s naked body and how apparent it was that he liked what he saw.  

 

So he didn’t watch James lean down to drag his mouth across Clint’s chest, just felt the hot press of lips and the slight burn of stubble, and then the sharp nip of teeth on his nipple.  Clint arched into the touch, hissing, but couldn’t move because James’ weight was still on his thighs and his arms were still cuffed to the bed.

 

James made his way to the other nipple in slow, incremental movements, pressing kisses to Clint’s sternum and chest, biting just this side of too painful into the muscle of his pec, before wrapping his lips around the unabused nipple and sucking hard.  

 

Clint was starting to see the downside of the cuffs, as his arms jerked in an automatic response, reaching for James’ head.  

 

Sensing his frustration, James chuckled against Clint’s skin, and slid even lower, licking into the spaces between Clint’s abs.  He kept Clint’s hips pinned to the bed the whole time, even as he slid lower onto the mattress, between Clint’s spread knees, but he stopped when he reached the rock-hard dick Clint had no hope of hiding.

 

Or desire, for that matter.

 

When James blew cool air across the damp head, Clint whimpered.

 

“And this dick,” James said thoughtfully, wrapping his hand around it and giving a gentle tug. “A personal favorite.”

 

Clint gave a choked laugh.  “Good to- good to know,” he panted, writhing.

 

James wrapped his lips around Clint’s cock and Clint lost all ability to formulate words as James flicked his tongue cross the slit and sucked on the head, while he kept one hand firmly on Clint’s hip and the other wrapped tightly around the base of his erection.  Clint wanted, so badly, to thrust up into that warm, tight suction, and was completely helpless to do anything but lie there and accept what he was given.

 

Which was something he hadn’t known he loved, until James, and which James thrived on providing.

 

“Oh fuck,” Clint managed, finally, when James released him with a filthy, wet pop.  

 

“Mmmm,” James agreed, and then shifted until he was leaning over Clint and reaching into the drawer of the nightstand again.  “I promised you a reward,” he said, sitting back and clutching something Clint couldn’t quite make out in his hand.

 

“Yeah,” Clint agreed, unable to keep the note of hope from his voice.

 

James laughed, low and dirty.

 

“I think I’m going to reward you with orgasms.”  He opened his fist to reveal a black, stretchy silicone cock ring with a vibrating bullet at the bottom.

 

Clint groaned.  “Oh, _fuck_ ,” he said, again.  Clint both loved and hated that cock ring.

 

“Eventually,” James agreed, reaching for lube.  He squirted some in his hand and twisted his fist upside down and over Clint’s cock, creating a tight, slippery glide that made Clint yelp and buck his hips.

 

The cock ring slid smoothly behind his fist, and James twisted it gently, until Clint’s balls were through the loop and the little nub was settled behind them, putting pressure on his prostate even without the vibration.

 

Clint’s already-throbbing cock now felt twice as sensitive and like it was pulsing in time with his heart.

 

James reached for more lube and began working both hands down Clint’s dick, sliding him through what felt like an endless tight, wet tunnel.  His back was arched and his thighs were trembling as he tried, and failed, to get enough sensation to reach the orgasm that he could already taste on the back of his tongue.

 

Then James stopped.

 

Clint collapsed back onto the mattress, panting like he’d run a marathon.  

 

“How many orgasms?” James said, running his fingertips along the underside of Clint’s dick, flicking the sensitive spot under the head.

 

“Wha-, what?” Clint managed, after a moment.

 

“I said,” James continued, fisting Clint’s cock again, but not jerking him off, “how many orgasms?”

 

Clint had no idea how to answer.  If he picked a number James might stop there, and maybe Clint wouldn’t want to stop.  Or James might take it as a personal challenge, and Clint wasn’t sure he _didn’t_ want that, either.

 

“Is this a trick question?”

 

James chuckled.  “Maybe,” he admitted.  “How many orgasms do you want me to give you, since you did such a good job?”  He slid his hand up Clint’s dick and back down in a short, sharp motion. “Do you need one to take the edge off so you can think about it, sweetheart?”

 

Clint _wanted_ James to keep jerking him off until he came, even though he knew it wouldn’t offer him any relief with the cock ring, and that there would be more orgasms to come - which, ha! A pun! - and he whined in response.  

 

“Clint,” James sounded stern now.  “Color?”

 

“Green,” Clint forced the word out.  “I’m green. Three orgasms.”

 

Three was a nice, safe number, he figured.  They’d done three before.

 

They’d done a lot of things, in the last few months, things Clint hadn’t known he even wanted - like tonight’s handcuffs - and some things he _had_ known he wanted but had never before been brave enough to ask for, until James cajoled him into admitting it, things like monogamy, and testing, and no-condom day.

 

Sex was easy, but relationships - those were a doozy.

 

“You’re drifting,” James idly commented, squeezing the base of Clint’s dick hard enough to get his attention.  “Am I boring you, baby?”

 

“No!” Clint was quick to answer that.  “No I was- I was just thinking.”

 

James dragged his hand up and back down Clint’s cock again, setting a smooth, relaxed rhythm that Clint could tell was going to take long enough to get him off that it was going to make him crazy.

 

“What are you thinkin’ about darlin’?” James leaned forward to mouth at Clint’s shoulder.  “Thinkin’ about how I’m gonna get you off with my hands and my mouth and my cock?”

 

When Clint flushed, in arousal and a funny kind of embarrassment he couldn’t really name, James chased the blush down his throat to his chest with his lips, teeth and tongue tracing across Clint’s skin.

 

“What’s got you so pink, hmm?” James asked, from somewhere near Clint’s belly button.  He was still languidly jerking Clint off. “What are you thinkin’ about, tell me.” He twisted his wrist on the upstroke, and sparks went off behind Clint’s eyelids.

 

“Just- just you,” Clint said, breathless.  “Us. That’s all.” He couldn’t begin to explain that he hadn’t even been thinking about the sexy stuff.

 

James sat back and looked down at him, all bedroom eyes and mussed hair, considering and attentive in the way he got sometimes, like Clint was a secret he couldn’t wait to unravel.  He slowed his stroking even more, and then leaned down to kiss Clint on the mouth, the sort of long, thorough kiss that didn’t even have to be about sex, was usually more a declaration than foreplay.  

 

His hand moved faster over Clint’s erection, until Clint was arching up into it again, and James was straddling his thighs to hold him in place, one arm braced above Clint’s head as he leaned over and watched his face.  

 

“You gonna come for me baby?” James asked.

 

Clint’s breath hitched in his chest.  “Yes,” he hissed, writhing under the touch.  He could feel sweat beading at the base of his throat and at his temples, and he bit his lip as orgasm grew closer and closer.

 

“Good. I wanna watch.”

 

He tried to keep his eyes open as he came, tried to watch James watch him, but the sensation hit him over the head like a wrecking ball, unfurling from his gut and washing over him in a hot wave that left him a gasping, wrecked mess in the bed.  

 

“God, you look good when you come,” James murmured, and Clint flushed again, this time in pure, unadulterated embarrassment.  He closed his eyes.

 

James tsked.  “No hiding,” he chided, putting his hand on Clint’s jaw so that his thumb brushed Clint’s bite-swollen bottom lip.

 

Clint opened his eyes again.

 

“I like watching you come,” James assured him, still stroking his mouth.  “It’s sexy as hell, and I like knowing I made you look like that.” He stared down at Clint until he was satisfied with whatever he saw in his expression.

 

He climbed off of Clint then, reaching into the nightstand for one of the numerous hand towels he kept there, and used it to clean his hand and Clint’s still-prominent erection.  Clint flinched a little under the attention, sensitive and aching despite the orgasm.

 

“Comfortable?” James asked, jerking his head towards Clint’s wrists. “Still green?”

 

Clint flexed his elbows and fingers, rolled his shoulders as much as he could, and noted no discomfort or tingles.  “I’m fine,” he assured James.

 

“Good,” James said again.  He shucked his jeans and his briefs in one quick, fluid movement, and climbed back onto the bed and over Clint’s lap again.  He rolled his hips against Clint’s, his cock leaving a sticky trail of precome over Clint’s abs and his ass pressing against Clint’s dick.

 

Reflexively, Clint jerked up against the pressure, pushing his dick against James’ perineum.

 

James made a thoughtful sound before lifting until he was up on his knees above Clint’s body.  

 

“Turn over,” he ordered, and Clint used his shoulders and core muscles to comply.

 

“Fuck.” James said, and some of his normal calm seemed rattled.  He pressed his body against Clint’s back and his lips behind his ear.  “Fuck, you look good doing that.”

 

Clint snorted.  “You should see me do Yoga.”

 

There was a long pause, and Clint realized that at some point, in the near future, he was going to end up doing naked Yoga in James’ living room, or some such nonsense.  

 

“Later,” James growled, after a minute.  His mouth made its way down Clint’s spine and across his shoulders.  “I love your shoulders,” he said, after a second, like he’d suddenly remembered he was supposed to be telling Clint everything he liked about him.  Clint might have been happy enough to have him forget, if it wasn’t for the tell-tale way the animal part of his brain responded to the compliments.  “What do you do to get shoulders like these?”

 

“Archery,” Clint told the mattress he was pressed into, as though James didn’t already know the answer to that question.  Not answering questions didn’t get him rewards, however, so he still answered.

 

“Wanna watch you do that too,” James said, even as he ventured lower, tasting the salt on Clint’s skin in the curve of his spine.  

 

Clint shivered as he thought about James watching him shoot his bow.  His cock hardened further.

 

James reached over and plucked up one of the abandoned pillows while simultaneously coaxing Clint onto his knees.  The pillow, and a towel, went underneath him, James maneuvering him until he was spread out, almost sitting on his heels, supporting his weight on his elbows with his chest on a pillow and his cock dangling, untouched, between his legs.

 

The mouth along his spine was now dangerously low.

 

Clint bit his lip and tried to hold in the noise he wanted to make, when he realized what James was planning.

 

It didn’t help at all, because the first brush of James’ tongue against his ass made him jerk, and a high-pitched noise escaped from between his lips.  

 

He felt James warm breath as he chuckled against him.

 

Clint gave up, and let his head drop between his shoulders to rest against his bound wrists, felt his whole body go slack as he relaxed into James’ touch.

 

“There you go,” James crooned, rubbing his thumb against the furled muscle he was clearly planning to ravish.  “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

 

It took Clint a second to realize the whimpering sound he heard came out of his own throat.

 

“Do you think you can come from just my mouth?” James asked, contemplative but like he wasn’t all that interested in Clint's answer.

 

Then his mouth was back on Clint, licking him open slowly and thoroughly, a hot, wet intrusion that made Clint arch his back despite his best efforts. James just gripped his hips again, holding him in place as he slowly destroyed Clint's sanity.

 

“Oh god, oh fuck,” Clint barely recognized the sound of his own voice as he pressed his forehead into his own bound wrists and scrunched his eyes shut. His entire being was focused on the sensation of James’ mouth on him, _in_ him.

 

James was patient about it, starting with small laps and scrapes of teeth, before pressing in further, and Clint could feel himself getting wet and sloppy in a way that probably should have been weird but mostly just made him want to press his ass up farther and beg to be fucked. He couldn’t help the way he moved with it, pressing further into James’ hands, undulating his hips with the rhythm of his mouth.

 

“God, please,” he begged, but for what he didn't know.

 

His cock felt like it was going to _explode._

 

Except it _wasn't,_ which was the problem. It was just hanging there, neglected and throbbing and dripping onto the towel below him.

 

James’ hand slid up the back of his thigh and Clint had enough time to think _finally,_ to anticipate some relief, either with James’ fingers inside him or a hand on his cock, and then the forgotten buzzing feature of the cock ring was turned on, vibrating tortuously against his perineum.  

 

Clint flinched violently, a shout surprised out of him, but James just locked his arms around his thighs and held him in place as he continued his sadistically casual pace of eating Clint out.

 

He lost track entirely of what was coming out of his mouth, just babbling nonsense and squirming in James’ arms, alternately clinging to the strap he was cuffed to and the sheets beneath his hands as he bucked and writhed between the sensations in his groin.

 

James didn't touch his cock.

 

Clint had never come untouched before. It wasn't like getting fucked and coming from just that, there was literally nothing touching his cock or his prostate, just the unbearable dual sensations of vibration and James’ hot, wet mouth licking into him.

 

He was reduced to a pleading, gibberish mess, writhing against James’ hold for any sort of friction.

 

“Color?” James asked, when Clint was reduced to near tears, his breath now cool against Clint's wet hole.

 

“Green, fuck, green, please.”

 

James hummed against his skin and Clint nearly crawled out of his body.

 

“Come on my mouth or not at all,” James said, instead of giving him any relief.  He flicked the vibration up higher, and Clint really did sob then.

 

He was going to come though, he could feel it, now James had said he wasn't going to do anything else. Clint could feel the tingle shivering up his spine and into his pelvis.

 

“ _Ah, ah, ah_ ,” he sobbed, feeling the tightening in his gut, totally beyond words.

 

James slid a finger against his rim, tugging it open further for his tongue, and Clint came so hard he couldn't _breathe_ .  It was punched out of him, along with the choked-off, _broken_ sound he made.  

 

His arms and legs were trembling as he gasped for air.

 

“You did so good,” James soothed.  He tugged the towel out from under Clint, pulled the  pillow out from under his chest and coaxed him down onto his belly. “You came so good for me baby, you did great.”

 

Clint sucked in another breath as his still-hard cock got pressed between his body and the sheets, but it felt so good to relax his arms and legs he didn't know whether to flinch or not.

 

“Shhh,” James continued, rubbing warm, relaxing hands across Clint's back. “You're alright. It'll be better in a minute.”

 

Clint wasn't sure when he'd turned the vibration off on the ring, but at least he was being spared _that_ torture.

 

James hands disappeared for a second and them returned, coated in warmed lotion as he rubbed the tension out of Clint's shoulders and thighs, paying special attention to the right one.

 

“Better?” He asked after several long minutes that stretched like taffy.

 

“Mmmm-hmmm,” Clint mumbled. The aching of his cock was almost a distant concern now. He felt warm and well-fucked.

 

“Color?”

 

“Still green,” Clint slurred. “Can even fuck me now, if you want.”

 

He felt James’ resultant huff of laughter. “Tempting,” he answered, running his fingers down to dip into Clint's ass, making him arch up into the touch, “but I had something else in mind.”

 

Clint stirred enough to look over his shoulder with a raised brow. James was still gloriously naked, flushed and aroused, and hard enough to pound nails.

 

“You wanna fuck my mouth?” he offered.

 

It surprised a laugh out of James. “You're full of temptation tonight, sweetheart, but that won't get you your promised orgasm, will it?”

 

Clint mutely shook his head, his erection suddenly less distantly aching and more an immediate concern.

 

“Turn over,” James ordered, again, but he helped Clint get turned and settled this time, making sure he was comfortable, despite still being tied down.

 

“Arms okay?” James checked.

 

“I'm good,” Clint said, flexing. “Still green.”  His cock was lying thick and heavy against his thigh, flushed dark and still damp from his last orgasm.

 

Truthfully, Clint wasn't certain he had another one in him. The last time he'd made it to three it had been sheer determination on James’ part, and a lot of crying on Clint's.

 

James must have noticed the uncertainty in Clint's expression because he smirked and threw his legs over Clint's lap, settling just shy of Clint's cock.

 

“Oh no, baby, you said three orgasms, and you're getting three orgasms.”

 

Clint shivered.

 

James reached down and squeezed his own cock, which was flushed even darker, was even wetter than Clint's. He had to be dying by now, but he looked just as relaxed and collected as he always did when he took Clint apart piece by piece. Releasing himself, he switched to Clint's cock, squeezing almost hard enough to hurt, and making Clint gasp wetly.

 

“Jesus,” Clint stammered.

 

“I'm gonna ride this dick until I come,” James announced, and Clint nearly came on the spot, except for the punishing grip James had on his cock, “and after that, you can come again.”

 

James shifted, until he was poised above Clint, his feet hooked over Clint's thighs so he couldn't move _at all, and when had James even had time to prep himself?_

 

“Color?” James checked, one last time.

 

“Green, fuck, so green, holy shit.” Clint was back to babbling, James was stretched about above him, tanned and muscled and about to ride him off into the sunset. This was the greenest Clint had ever been in his _life._

 

And then James sank down onto him, inch by agonizing inch.

 

Clint's breath hissed out unevenly between his clenched teeth, as his entire body strained up into the tightest, wettest squeeze. He was instantly on edge, instantly one wrong move away from coming, could feel it speeding towards him like a rocket, a blinding flash of pleasure-

 

“Do _not_ come,” James gritted out, holding himself completely immobile, Clint's dick still halfway inside of him. “You don't get to come until I do, do you understand me?” He gripped Clint's chin in his hand, forced Clint to look at him. “Clint.”

 

“Yes, green, okay, won't come, got it, just please move, _fuck_.”

 

James didn't move. He didn't move until Clint's breathing evened out into something that wasn't so obviously on edge, until Clint could think past _hottightwet_ surrounding his cock.

 

Then he slid down the remaining inches of Clint's dick in one slick, impossible motion.

 

“Jesus _god,”_ Clint gasped.

 

“Yeah,” James agreed, his head tipped back on his shoulders. “You feel good,” he said, after a moment.

 

A moment of Clint clenching and unclenching beneath him, of Clint straining against his restraints and James’ feet, and getting nowhere. A moment of Clint trembling in heated _want._

 

He was definitely going to come again.

 

“Remember,” James said, apparently reading Clint's mind, “you don't get to come until I do.”

 

And then he braced his arms above Clint's head on the headboard and pistoned himself up and then down using his thighs.

 

This was it, this was how Clint was going to die.

 

He jerked helplessly against the cuffs, and got absolutely no leverage to thrust up into James, no leverage to do anything except _lie there and take it_.

 

James rode him at a leisurely pace for long enough that Clint thought he was going to lose his tentative grasp on sanity, before even James seemed to finally reach his limit, his rhythm picking up speed and forcefulness as Clint gritted his teeth and fought off orgasm.

 

Instead, he watched James, who looked fucking amazing, flushed and sweating and aroused, all his muscles standing out in relief and Clint figured if he died, what a way to go.

 

James let go of the headboard with his right hand and reached down to jerk himself off.

 

“Gettin’ close sweetheart,” he said, as breathless as Clint had ever heard him.  “You're doin’ so good, almost there.”

 

Clint choked out a desperate moan.

 

Letting go of the headboard entirely, James leaned back onto Clint's thighs and rolled his hips, fucking forward into his own fist and rocking back onto Clint's cock, as deep as he could get it, his eyes closed and his mouth parted.

 

“Oh fuck,” James groaned, long and low, and the he came all over Clint, thick ropes of white come coating his abs and chest, and squeezing down on Clint’s cock like a vice.

 

“Oh god, _please_ ,” Clint groaned, pathetic and needy, and only sheer willpower and a desire to be told he was _good_ keeping him from shooting off.

 

“Come on, baby,” James said, sweating and disheveled, and looking well-fucked, “come in me.”

 

His words triggered an orgasm that was blinding in its intensity, until Clint’s nails bit into his own palms and he shivered and shook and probably babbled all sorts of nonsense, until he was wrung out and spent and gasping for air underneath James.  He was barely aware of the cuffs coming off, of the cock ring being removed, of James gently cleaning him up and turning him on his side to plaster himself against Clint’s back.

 

It wasn’t subspace of the intensity of their first night together, but Clint drifted anyway, comfortably cocooned in James’ warmth against his body and the smooth linens over his skin.  

 

Clint came back to himself with James pressing kisses against his neck and ghosting praise across his shoulders, murmurs of ‘good’ and ‘perfect’ and ‘pretty’ breathed into his ear. He felt exhausted in the best ways, his muscles lax with the bone-tired feeling of being well-used.

 

“Hey,” he said, soft and low, but still easily understood over James’ nonsense comfort words.  “Hey, what if I had gotten something better?”

 

James snorted against his spine.  “What, like an actual artifact?”

 

“Yeah,” Clint said, all languid and thoughtful.  “Like… a big jewel, or I dunno, part of a mummy or something.”

 

“Then I’d have had to go to work tomorrow instead of taking the day off,” James admitted, reaching to pull the duvet up over both of them when Clint shivered in the cool bedroom air.

 

“So I did good?” Clint asked, even as he yawned and snuggled deeper into the embrace.

 

“You did great, sweetheart,” James assured him, rolling to turn the lamp off.  “You did perfect. Best valuable object you ever stole.”

 

“I once stole the crown jewels of Württemberg,” Clint sleepily argued.

 

“But did you get three orgasms for your trouble?”

 

Clint had gotten a stab wound and two broken fingers for his trouble, now he thought of it.

 

“Nah,” he answered.  “You win.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, many thanks to ClaraxBarton for the beta, and extra special love and thanks to Amberlyinviolet for sensitivity reading the consent and kink aspects of this fic. You are both wonderful to me and I love you!


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